


Superhero Academy got an update

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Background Relationships, Baker Jack, Brock is a Terrible Receptionist, Companionable Snark, First Meetings, HYDRA Husbands, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 01:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12570380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: A terrible receptionist meets a terse baker who doesn't have time for his crap..okay maybe a little time.





	Superhero Academy got an update

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to post this about two months ago I think, dammit.

Brock isn’t sure the moment he wanted to die, but he finally came to the realization that he really really _really_ loathed his job.

Well technically he was sort of in between them with a temporary one he was supposed to quit whenever he got a call to the one he really wanted to work at. Just something to keep him fed and get the bills paid. When Bucky said they had an entry level position to his high end security firm he didn’t realize that meant he was taking a job as a _receptionist_.

It wasn’t all that bad though, most of the time he spent his day in front of a panel of security cameras and had a state of the art tablet that was pre-loaded with a bunch game apps (Bucky knew him too well). Aside from a random jilted lover trying to lay blame on the company for the installation of new security measures on some home or a call he actually felt like answering, it was pretty boring.

Friday was like any other day and he was 10 bombs away from collecting some dumb charm for some weird old man that needed it. It was of dire importance that he get them so the crone could unlock the next tier for an event going on in this superhero game he had suddenly invested way too many hours into when he noticed someone blocking the daylight to the door and approaching his desk.

In 35 seconds the cooldown to this boss fight that gave him said bombs would be up and time was of the essence if he wanted to do this event without shelling a dime to the asshole developers. 

“Hey, I got a morning delivery for a dozen cupcakes and a tray of assorted pastries for a..James Barnes?”

“20 seconds..” Brock muttered to himself, barely registering someone else there talking to him. “Fuckin’ stupid character unlock, no point in havin’ ‘im..it’s the damn principle though..”

The mystery man cleared his throat, a soft tapping came up against a box, voice calm but laced with minor irritation, “Look, I got a wedding cake to deliver in about an hour and if there’s an accident on route the bride’s probably going to disembowel me..”

Interest piqued a little when Brock heard the voice again, but he only raised his hand vaguely in their direction, “Yeah buddy jus..hold on a sec, gimmie 5 minutes..”

There was vague movement in Brock’s peripheral vision before the tablet was abruptly yanked from his hands and held up high enough so he’d have to stand out of his chair to make a grab for it.

“Hey, the hell?!” He looked up to scowl at the man that was ruining his plans to stick it to the man only to be startled by Mr. Tall, dark and handsome. “ _Oh_ , um..hey how can I help ya?”

“By signing this invoice for me so I can leave, I got other deliveries to do.” The guy lets out with a mildly annoyed expression across the most attractive face Brock’s ever seen.

At first Brock just stares a second because _shit, this guy can give him a special delivery any time of the day_. He can’t help look at how distinguished he looks even if his brows are screwed together and his eyes are sharply staring daggers into him. They’re really nice olive green eyes, well one eye, the other’s a little _off_ not that that really mattered, you didn’t really notice it with the sharp bone structure and the pushed back dark hair Brock _kind of_ wanted to run his fingers through. Just a little. The scar was the best feature though, this guy was here dropping off baked goods but he looked like he could be a villain in a movie, it made him look mysterious and a little hot if he did say so himself..okay a lot hot.

It’s not until the man tilts his head in question that Brock snaps out of his little moment and he reaches for the clipboard, “Yeah sure, sign for..yeah okay.” 

He scrambles to find a pen because of course he can’t find one when he needs it until delivery guy clicks his and holds it out with a minor sigh. Brock can’t help but roll his eyes back at him, even if he’s hot as hell he isn’t gonna let some asshole keep making passive aggressive actions towards him. 

It’s when he’s handing the pen and clipboard back that he notices the flour across the back of the guy’s knuckles and gets a little curious, “You work at a bakery to make this stuff and then deliver ‘em?”

The man’s lips twitch as he slides the two rectangle shaped pastel blue bakery boxes closer towards him, the uniform he thought he was wearing isn’t a uniform at all but just a light brown jacket that looks like it was pulled over a thin slate grey t-shirt that’s a size too small because as he moves the fabric stretches over his solid chest and around the tiny bit of his bicep he could see and like he said before, _shit_. 

“I _own_ the bakery and deliver them.” He smirked, “My guy cut out, was in an accident so we’re down to three.”

“Sounds like a shitty deal for you.”

He shrugs a little, taking his pen and clipboard, giving him one more glance before he’s turning to walk off, “Can’t be as shitty a deal as the guy that hired _you_.”

“Hey!” Brock leaned against the desk like it would travel his voice better yelling at that perfect ass walking away from him, “I’ll have ya know I can do this job better than you can make your damn cupcakes!”

The front lobby door quietly closed and to make a point he opened the box with the cupcakes to eat one just so he could tell the guy the next time he saw him how terrible they were.

..he wasn’t going to tell him how terrible they were. Asshole.

*****

Next Friday there’s another event on his superhero game but he’s so burnt out on it he’s playing online poker instead until a clipboard hits his desk and he’s so startled he almost drops the tablet on the floor.

“Can you fuckin’ _not_.” Brock grates out as he sets the thing down, “I break this crap and Buck’ll be on my ass about it.”

“Hand slipped.” The mystery baker guy says as he shrugs casually holding out the paperwork. “Sorry to be such a _bother_ I know you’re such a busy man.”

“Because 5 minutes makes you a damn expert.” He grumbles out lowly.

A heart cake was here this time and through the peek-a-boo window of the pastry box he can see it’s fucking _purple_ with an arrow going through it and he automatically knows it’s for Natasha. He signs for it and shoves it back into delivery/baker guy’s magnificent chest, this time in tight navy blue. He really hates him.

The man tilts his head to the tablet, “That site is a con by the way. You’re gonna keep winning until you double up on your free bonus and then when you shell out a few bucks it’s designed to string you before you lose it all. Even a little bit from everyone’s pockets is worth it.”

Brock pursed his lips, looking at him a long moment, he’s still pretty hot even with the attitude though he’s sure it’s the attitude that’s got Brock more interested in him, “What’s yer name?”

“Huh?”

“Yer _name_. I assume if yer deliverin’ somethin’ else here, no matter how terrible Barton’s taste is, you might be a regular I come into contact with.” He’s pretty sure he sounds casual about it, moving a hand to his tablet and exiting out of the game.

“I- uh Jack.” He lets out, setting his sights on the clipboard as his pen takes a couple attempts to slide into his pocket, “I’m late.”

Before Brock can even say a word, Jack turns on his heels and stiffly speed walks out of there like no ones business.

*****

“The word is candor.”

“How the fuck you spell _that_?”

It’s four Friday’s later, a pastel blue pastry box sits expectantly on the counter and this time it’s a special order of chocolate custard filled eclairs for Wilson the moment he heard one of his favorite clients was having a baby..or something.

Jack pushes off the front of the desk and shuffles around sucking on one of the lollipops that sat in an open jar to appease the children that had to come in with parents during appointments. He leans over the back of Brock’s chair, hand gripping his shoulder at the opposing side, chest pressing in against his back pointing out the space it fits into on the daily crossword after nudging Brock’s hand out of the way, “C-a-n-d-o-r; being straightforward in attitude.”

“That space spells condor, asshole.” Brock blurts out, really trying to ignore the heat coming off Jack’s body, his face way too close for comfort.

Pulling away, Jack slips his hand to the back of Brock’s chair smirking a little, “Yeah because your handwriting is so terrible that you assume 6 across is author with an ‘o’ instead of an ‘a’ just to insult me.” 

Brock tosses the folded newspaper away from him, trying to distract himself from the tingling sensation of Jack being in his personal space, “I hate this word shit anyway.”

“Superhero Academy got an update.” Jack informs him, scrolling through his phone as he leans against the side of the desk, “Looks like you’ll have an easier time getting that green masked guy you refused to shell out money in exchange of galactic coins for..”

Brock stares at him a long moment but Jack doesn’t look up, finally grabbing his tablet to check the update himself, “You um, got more deliveries today?”

“Mhm, got my lunch break now though.”

“Oh, uh..” Brock was tongue tied, he was usually better than this.

“Do you wanna order some Chinese with me? Master Chow’s can deliver in- ”

“ -I’ll suck your dick for Master Chow’s!” Brock spat out all of a sudden, a hand going over his mouth. Okay so he was a little in love with Master Chow’s, okay _a lot_ in love with Master Chow’s and his brain exploded when Jack brought it up because it meant _Jack liked Master Chow’s too_ and well fuck, he got a little excited alright?

Jack glanced up from his phone, mouth clearly battling on trying not to laugh, “Master Chow’s it is, though I don’t really do that before a first date.”

Brock rolls his eyes, turning back to his tablet and planning to never look at Jack again, “Shut up. Order me some bbq pork and a thing of beef and broccoli.”

*****

“Don’t do it bitch. Don’t,” He sighed loudly, shaking a hand at the computer screen, “She did it. He ain’t fuckin’ worth it!”

“Isn’t she half immune or something? What are you worried about? She’s obviously not going to die, she’s one of the main characters.” 

Jack reached for some more potato chips, leaning back in a chair he stole from God knows where, heavy boots propped up on the desk with two lengthy boxes of freshly made cookies awaiting pick up sitting at the opposite end. 

It’s been a couple of months since their snarky interaction and now Jack moved around deliveries and bumped up his lunch time so he could hang out as long as there was something that was ordered he had to bring over. Oddly enough he tended to _always_ have something to bring, be it treats for a staff meeting or more of Barton’s flair for romance. Hell sometimes Bucky’s sweet tooth kicked up and he was ordering brownies that he strictly only shared with his one and only and Steve didn’t even have that much appreciation for chocolate. Brock wonders if maybe they didn’t really eat them and perhaps made of mess of Bucky’s large office desk instead with their own brand of food porn.

“Besides the damn point. How’s she gonna deal with keepin’ her ass intact when the showdown happens if she keeps jumpin’ into everythin’ head first huh? I hate this movie, she’d fail being an actual dhampir, I’m sure of it..”

“You’re the one who chose it,” Jack helpfully reminds him with a straight face. “I still don’t understand your love for horrible made-for-TV movies suggested by the _Hallmark_ channel of all places.”

“Hey, I like ‘em alright?” Brock shoots his way, “Don’t mock these movies, someone went through a lot of effort for ‘em.”

“Right, right.” Jack comments sarcastically, reaching for the bag of pretzels. “Didn’t you talk about this movie last week having some commercial free showing last night or something?”

Brock throws his hands up as he glares at the ceiling, “Don’t fuckin’ remind me! I went to the bar to kill time and this guy started chattin’ me up right? I figure he’s decently good lookin’, I would hold off on the movie until I get to work- ”

“Makes sense watching it where you _don’t_ do any work.” Jack interrupts with a grin, tossing another pretzel into his mouth.

Casting him a _look_ Brock ignores saying something back, “By the time I figured out he wasn’t worth the damn time, the movie was over. So on top of not getting laid, I missed it.”

Jack’s looking at him way too closely and Brock shrugs, “I saw a family picture when he opened his wallet. Two kids, a wife. No ring and I asked, he said he was separated and I can’t, ain’t steppin’ into that snake trap when ya got their picture right there. _Maybe_ with just the kids in the picture but not with the wife, they’re still married..kinda fucked up to me. Workin’ here, one thing I noticed is a lot of bad divorces and the overspill endin’ up on our doorstep because we’re puttin’ in the security. Ain’t no way I wanna be pulled into that shit jus’ fer one night of dickin’.”

“Eloquently put,” Jack comments. Brock notices his eyes going over him, just before he pops a chip in his mouth and then goes back to the computer screen, “but not a bad idea.”

“Yeah I know right? Me and _morals_. I got some of ‘em, don’t look so damn surprised. Now, we gonna finish this?”

“As long as you stop pausing and cursing the movie out so we can get it finished, there are torture methods I’d choose over this, besides I got a bakery to run.”

Brock takes back the pretzels and punches his arm for that.

*****

A few more Fridays pass and Brock finds Jack’s visits part of his ritual now as he watches him stroll in with the very familiar powder blue box in his hands and his brows a little too pushed together as he approaches and rests the box almost gingerly onto the desk. Brock immediately pushes off the desk to look in the preview window at the top to see weird doughnut things he’s never seen before.

“They’re paczki..uh, similar to filled doughnuts but these are Polish.”

“Huh.” Brock only comments for a second. Even with the box sealed he can still smell the rich sweet scent of dough emitting out and it makes his stomach grumble softly. “What’s in ‘em?” 

“A couple of custard, a couple of blueberry, the other two are raspberry.” 

Brock brightens as he looks up at Jack, “Hey, all my favorite flavors!” 

Forcing out a laugh, Jack looks way too serious for it as he holds out the clipboard, “Yeah. Sign this.” 

“You doin’ okay there Jack?” He grabs his pen and signs it without even bothering to read it, still squinting at the face in front of him, “You look like you’re about to shit a brick or somethin’.” 

“Me? Yeah just,” He reaches up to his scar, scratching at it lightly, “I got backed up orders so I gotta get going. Just came in to give that to you.” 

Immediately Brock’s disappointed but well, if he’s gained a couple of pounds here and there from eating a few of Jack’s homemade goods, he can appreciate all the orders he’s been getting. But he’s also gained a friend he likes hanging out at work with, well most of the time. He shrugs and gives him a smile, folding the yellow invoice copy before resting it on the box, “Sure, always good to get business especially when yer new. I’ll get someone to pick it up and send it their way, they can figure it out. Pretty sure it’s somethin’ Buck ordered, I’ve seen him pack away a dozen doughnuts in one sittin’.” 

Chewing at his lip absently, Jack’s mostly neutral about the statement, nodding to him, “Sure. See ya Brock.” 

He doesn’t really get much of a chance to return it, watching him take off out the door and Brock can only shrug to himself. One of the new guys that was recently hired eventually pass by and he sends the box with them getting back into an episode of a reality show he wasn’t sure Jack was ready to know he was into just yet.

He mostly forgets all about the paczki until Natasha comes out with the box in her hand and a certain look across her face, resting it on his desk, “You made a mistake with these.”

“What mistake?” Brock asks as he tries to aim his pool cue just right to get this shot just before she snatches the tablet out of his hands and holds it behind her back. “Hey! The hell Romanoff?”

“Shut up and pay attention. No one ordered these. Not Clint, not Sam, and certainly not Bucky even though everyone assumed he did. Tony was coming in to show us some tech stuff so we assumed he heard about the bakery and ordered himself up some of those doughnuts, you know how he is but he just showed up and had no idea about them.”

“So Jack made a mistake. No big deal, we can jus eat ‘em, not like he’s gonna sell ‘em again.”

“My God, you _are_ an idiot,” She tossed the crumpled up invoice at him, “Maybe you should read that. You’re lucky the coffee grounds weren’t thrown in by then or else I’d make you retrieve it yourself.”

“The hell are you goin’ on about, Red?” He smooths out the paperwork against his desk trying to read through all the creases and crinkles. The first thing he sees is his name in the receiver box and it comes back to him how weird Jack looked. In the additional comments he sees ‘Dinner Saturday night?’.

“Yer shittin’ me..” 

“Why didn’t you read the form before you sent it to the back with Johnson?”

Brock glares at the piece of paper, “Why the hell would I read the damn invoice?! It’s usually to you because Barton’s a lovesick fool or Buck’s orderin’ something for the meetin’s. It ain’t ever for _me_. Why would it be?” 

He keeps thinking about the way Jack looked so serious, so set in a way, tense. He remembers then that they don’t order anything Polish because he’s sure Jack’s mentioned he only does that for special occasions and as gifts because it makes him too homesick for his family if he does it on a constant basis. That he filled it with flavors that Brock would eat because- _Oh_. 

Suddenly he can’t breathe anymore because he’s a fucking idiot.

Natasha seems to catch his ‘he fucked up’ moment just as he does, a smirk crossing her lips as she leaned with both hands on the desk, “All this time he’s been hanging out here with you every Friday like you’re both bums and it didn’t occur to you he had an interest in you..at all? I’ve walked by this desk to call back clients while you’re ranting about some stupid movie or show and he’s looking at you like you’re the best thing in the world. You seriously had no idea Rumlow?”

“No, I didn’t! How would I? He keeps insulting me and saying I have terrible tastes in things!” 

Her finger comes up and jabs a perfectly manicured nail hard into his chest “And how many times have you said any guy that has the balls to bite back is a plus because then they can keep up with you. He’s so ridiculously into you it’s kind of sad you didn’t notice, I even have clients referring to him as your boyfriend. I should start telling them he’s not because you’re stupid.” 

Brock balked at that, swatting her hand away, “He coulda just said somethin’ yanno, two way street and all that shit.” 

“Because,” Natasha sighs as she straightens up and rolls her eyes upwards as if she’s asking for strength, “Jack runs his own business and lost a delivery guy but no one else comes here except him when there’s an order even if he should be covering his shop and he takes early lunch breaks so he can accommodate you which makes him work the rest of the day without a proper rest _and_ tolerates your terrible interests wasn’t obvious enough.” 

“It ain’t. Shoulda jus said somethin’, the dumb Sasquatch..” His hands grab at his keys and coat before he’s even standing, “I’m takin’ a half day.”

“Why did Barnes even hire you? You’re the worst receptionist ever.” She watched him a second, shaking her head at him, “Don’t mess it up, he’s the only person who seems to tolerate you without wanting to choke you.”

Brock doesn’t bother dignifying that with an answer, taking off out the door. He has a snippy baker to snag.

*****

Brock makes it just in time to see the last customer clear out from the little homely bakery for it to be empty at the moment, a girl with long brown hair and a polite warm smile sweeping across her face at the counter and greeting him the second he steps inside.

“Hello, welcome to Stairway to Leaven! How can I help you today?”

On any other day Brock could really appreciate hearing that greeting with a big grin but he was on a mission today, approaching the girl and slamming his hands on the counter with a very set expression of determination.

“Where’s Jack, I need to tell him he’s an idiot.”

Realization crosses the girl’s expression and she smiles a little different, maybe hopeful? She lifts ring covered fingers in the direction of the back door, “Oh, you’re Brock. I can see why he thinks you’re cute, he’s sitting in the back. Through the kitchen and off to the side room, please take him out of his little black cloud it’s too gloomy for him.”

Brock looks at her a long moment, not really knowing what to say to that before she shoos him on his way and he makes it around the counter and into the kitchen. 

It smells like cinnamon and sugar and everything Jack smells like when they sit together, it prompts him to walk a little faster and push open the partially ajar door that led into a break room. Jack’s sitting alone at the table with a fork in hand poking at what looks like some kind of pasta in a container and a sullen look on his face while he blankly skims the newspaper.

“You know, they got this fancy thing called the internet now, you ain’t gotta read newspapers no more ‘less you’re into being an old man.”

Jack straightens up when he glances up and sees him, paper set down beside his food and suddenly looking a little nervous, “Brock, didn’t expect you here of all places.”

The feeling of nervousness seemed to bleed out and into him a little because Natasha definitely wasn’t kidding about Jack. He swallowed thickly, hands tactfully resting on the table surface staring at the man across from him, “I came over to get some advice actually.”

Arms fold over Jack’s chest, leaning back a little in his seat like he’s trying to be careful about all this, “Go ahead.”

“Heh,” Brock can’t help himself, “So I wanna take this guy out, he’s kind of a dick but I can deal with ‘im jus fine. I just don’t know what place to pick.” 

There’s a heavy pause between them and Jack blinks slowly before opening his mouth, “I’m sure anything you choose is fine with him. Location doesn’t matter, just the company despite how much of a self centered jackass he is.”

“What a sap.” Brock lets out as he makes his way around the table and gets in between where Jack’s seated and his space, pushing aside everything he had before him just so Brock could sit there and get a good look, “Subtle don’t work on me most of the time, I’m more of a straight to my face type of fella.”

“Good to know.” Jack comments before he’s standing up and Brock parts his legs allowing him to move in between them, one large hand coming up resting lightly at his hip as he leans down. 

He sucks in a sharp inhale of air, lost in those olive eyes again and wanting more of Jack’s touch when he intimately feels his hand mold around the fabric of his jeans despite the barrier between skin. He raises his own hand up and grasps tightly to the front of Jack’s black apron refusing to let him go just in case he thinks of bailing again.

But instead Jack catches his mouth and he’s kissing him, nothing shy or hesitant about it. He just goes all in and it’s a little surprising, in a very good way, Brock hooking his free arm around Jack’s neck while his thighs squeeze around him. That hand as his hip digs in and Brock _maybe_ makes an embarrassing noise that he refuses to address as a moan, a palm pressing firmly at the small of his back to bring him just a little more closer to Jack’s body. He may have also hooked a leg around Jack’s waist too while he’s at it.

“I mean it though..” Jack confides when he needs to get some air, panting against Brock’s lips while hands kept them together still, “I wanna take you out.” 

Brock stares at him, his face warm and his lips tingling, “You think I’m kiddin’ about this shit? Yes to dinner, but tonight cuz I wanna have you come over and if everythin’ goes like I think it will, you’re gonna take tomorrow off and we’ll order take out because I don’t think we’d be allowed to be in our underwear in public.”

Letting out a snort, Jack smirks at him, “Rather bold for you to assume I’d be wearing any underwear at that point.”

“See?” Brock grins, “I knew you were worth comin’ in here for.”

Jack’s face softens as he stares back like he’s never been this amazed before in his life which in turn makes Brock fall harder for him, “Funny that. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”


End file.
